On My Way
by Orokid
Summary: Spoilers up to 'Heart', rewrite of 'On My Way'. The road for Quinn to get the girl of her dreams is long and tough. Faberry main.


_So… I know I should probably be trying to work on any of the fanfics that I've been trying to finish, but recently (and by that, I mean today) I've been on a writing kick. This is something that I had in mind after I listened to the entire CD of Miranda Lambert's 'Four The Record'- and if you dislike Dear Diamond and love Finchel, do not read this! This is basically my brain child between those two things._

**WARNINGS:: **_Finchel and Klaine ends. Faberry, Brittana, Kurtofsky. I'm sorry if you dislike my OTPs. I personally love them. Another thing? This takes place BEFORE Quinn's accident, and BEFORE Kurofsky's attempted suicide._

_This will likely become by brain child for a little while. I'll hopefully have another chapter up in a week or two. Hope you enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing._

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Changing the Channel_

The choir room was quiet, their eyes carrying both surprise and wonder as they gazed at their director with conflicted emotions. Each student felt flabbergasted, the suggestion ringing in their young ears as they tried to determine if Mister Schuester was either joking or completely off his rocker. With every day that seemed to pass, the latter seemed a more likely choice. Still, his excited and hopeful gaze continued to watch his students with interest, leaning forward on his stool, hands clasping onto the rim, as he waited for a reaction. As seconds ticked by, and the lips before him either hung open in utter confusion or stayed shut, the thirty-some year old educator felt his smile begin to fade, questioning now whether or not this was as great an idea as he had originally assumed.

It was Rachel, ever cautious and reluctant, who tore through the silence, her voice gentle and baring the evident confusion that each of them felt right then. "But… Mister Schuester, if I may be so bold, this idea just seems…" The girl trailed off, searching for the perfect words to imply her well meaning intentions without offending the older man.

Of course, Santana's words cut in, shoving down his throat the words that the other girl seemed too afraid to say. "It's ludicrous. Absolutely insane." There were murmurs, soft yet heard, of agreement amongst the students sitting around the proud cheerleader. The similarly dressed blond beside her wordlessly reached and slipped her pale fingers between the caramel digits on her girlfriend's hand. This only seemed to urge the vocal girl on more. "Regionals is in, like, three weeks. And, not like I means to be a Berry two-point-oh or anything, but, for _reals_, Count Vestula- are you serious right now?"

The curly haired man rolled his multicolored eyes at the nickname that had fallen carelessly from the Latina's lips- but he didn't take a moment to take in the faces of his students. He could see their agreement with the girl, although there did seem to be a subtle understanding that he probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying closer attention. He inhaled deeply, readying his argument, pasting on his usual smile to his lips prior to even opening his mouth. "All I'm saying, guys, is that I want us to look for… under appreciated artists and genres for the competition." He did his best to level his sights toward each of the kids equally. "There's nothing wrong with Nicki Minaj or Kelly Clarkson. In fact, you guys sound absolutely wonderful singing those songs, but…" The man couldn't help his shrug. "We can't always to top forties music."

Blaine felt a frown cross his lips at the words that his choir teacher was saying. "But… it's what people like."

"And I sound totally awesome," Sugar added, although it seemed more like a statement rather than a remark made to refute what the director was asking of them. Of course, Rory gave a broad grin at the sound of her blatant and pompous voice, amused and enamored with the girl. Artie, on the other hand, began to pout.

"Aside from that," Blaine added with his usual charming smile, obviously trying hard to not make a comment that could hurt the rich girl's feelings- a precautionary since he _was _honestly looking forward to a second year attempting to stand one another. "Shouldn't we try and give the audience something they enjoy?" There was another murmur of agreement that swept briefly through the group.

This time, Will sighed, realizing that perhaps he was fighting a losing battle.

The low and smoke tone of one Quinn Fabray sent the whispers to silence, demanding attention despite her softer tones. She leaned back against her seat, arm bent behind her as she leaned against it. The girl's bored yet amused gaze glanced around the room, one of her eyebrows raised as a humorless laugh nearly left her lips. "So… what you're saying is that we should pander to our audiences instead of proving to them that we actually have talent." It was a statement, one that seemed both direct and accusatory toward the gelled haired young man.

Immediately, there seemed to be a shift in the air, all eyes glued on the younger boy. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all," he countered quickly, smile on his lips, although it wasn't hard to read the uncertainty in the words that he was saying. The dissent from agreement toward him to her was quick and silent, but the power had shifted. "I just think that maybe we'd get… I don't know, points for attempting more recent tunes."

"With judges who are usually twice our age and find it hard to listen to _our _kind music?" There was a silent dare in her words, but there was something more in the commanding girl's ways that spoke more of her years as captain of her cheer squad, of keeping her grades up despite all the troubles that continually laid out before her. She was nonchalant, but there was sense in her words that hit each student in the heart- sense that an adult could never share with them, but a peer could with ease. "I have a hard time getting my mother to listen to anything from the eighties, let alone from our generation." A fact, driven home by reason along with the logic.

There were murmurs once more, although this time it seemed as though Will's students seemed more in favor this time to his idea than before. The older man gave the blond an appreciative gaze, a nod of thanks soon following, grateful that at least someone seemed to understand where he was coming from right then. Still, there seemed to be people straddling the fence, uncertain whether or not to go through with the performance they'd already begun to perfect, despite the problems that came along with it, or the one that could be even better.

"I'm with Blaine on this one," Finn announced, nodding, although more to himself rather than to anyone else, looking up to glance at his peers with a determined smile on his lips. "I mean, we totally won sectionals with the Jacksons music, and that was popular enough that the crowd seemed to really like it. I mean, I know we're not doing Michael 'cause Dalton wants to, but people really like the music we've already chosen."

"But many of those songs were from a generation that we don't call our own," Rachel finally added, eyes on the ground before her as she sat there, calculating her thoughts and their chances. Slowly, her eyes rose, meeting with a certain blond's hazel gaze, silent words exchanging between them as the others simply listened to each side of the argument. "And… And we _pandered_, because we knew that recognizable music would help us, but as a performer myself, and a woman destined someday to grace the stages of New York, well… I'll be the first to admit that that was the only reason why we trumped The TroubleTones."

Santana's eyes shot directly toward the shorter girl, narrowing her gaze at the girl, cautiousness and uncertainty shining in her dark eyes as she tried to recognize the humor that just had to be in the girl's voice. Finn, beside his fiance, looked at her with surprise and hurt, not liking the fact that she was speaking freely about things that they said in private. "What are you saying, midget?" The crass and blunt nature of the girl's voice did little to hide the distrust and disbelief.

"That… I feel like we cheated a wonderful group out of something which should have been rewarded to the better performance by indulging to the adoration of our audience," the girl answered, although her dark eyes wouldn't meet the Latina's, guilt in her heart as pride and astonishment took the louder girl's.

Again, silence took the room, letting the words sink in, and soon guilt seemed to flood the faces of many of those who had participated in choosing their music in the last round of competition. They had all seen it in the faces of their competitors and the judges, the glee in recognizing and rocking out to a song that meant something to them once upon a time, but… that didn't make it right. The TroubleTones, despite their mouthy co-head that was sitting front and center with a thoughtful gaze, holding tightly to her girlfriend's hand for dear life, had a great performance, and they had mashed together two songs that had become both forgotten under the weight of newer song and decrepit compared to the younger and boppier tunes that took storm of the radios of old.

Their teacher, sitting quietly as his students decided amongst themselves whether they should go along with his idea or keep to their plans, watched each with a careful gaze. "I suppose a decision has to be made," he finally said, his voice heavy with hope and acknowledgement that they were deciding this as a group rather than him changing their set just because he had finally realized just why he had felt a tad bit awkward each practice he went to with his kids. His voice caught the attention of the group in front of him, each set of eyes drawn to his figure, paying attention as he spoke. "Let's put it to a vote." Both sides had made their arguments clear after all. "All for keeping our setlist?"

A few hands rose: Blaine, who looked at his boyfriend with hurt, the other boy seeming having found something in his nail beds that had been more interesting than proving a point that he didn't honestly believe in; Finn, who was looking at his girlfriend accusingly, his jaw jutting; Tina, who seemed to be surprised that Mike wasn't raising his hand because he had, after all, helped plan the choreography, and who had smacked him lightly in the shoulder in response; Rory, who was by far too happy to support anything that Finn Hudson supported… although his hand quietly and carefully fell back to his side with a firm glare in his direction from one Sugar Motta, and Artie seemed to straighten his posture, a smile on his lips at the mere idea that he'd done something Sugar thought right without having to be glared at. Rory, of course, disliked immediately the smug look in which the older boy wore; Mercedes seemed to watch both Brittany and Santana, and Brittany's eyes watched her lover, but since the caramel skinned girl did nothing but stare at her intermixed fingers, neither did the other two girls.

Silently, he counted the three raised arms, and gave a sheepish smile toward each owners of said hands as an apology. The frustration burning in their gazes spoke of their acknowledgement that this was a losing vote out of the handful that were in there. "All for changing?"

Quinn raised her arm part way, just high enough to be counted, her chin rising with pride as she did so, a smile crossing her lips as she continued to lean back into her chosen chair; Mike, although rubbing his smacked shoulder in mock surprise, rose his uninjured arm with a smile on his face; Sugar rose her hand daintily, smiling toward her TroubleTones teammates, while Rory and Artie fought to prove they could raise their arms faster than the other; Sam and Puck, both of whom seemed to have enjoyed the performances so far, wanted better music where they could rock out, so they raised their arms in hope; Rachel shyly rose her hand, ducking her head slightly as she heard her boyfriend humph beside her, and stuggled against his hand as he attempted to pull it down.

"What are you _doing_?" His question was whispered, but his brows were furrowed and his voice was tinged with his short temper as he firmly attempted to tug her arm once again. "We're supposed to be a united front, aren't we?"

Tugging her arm roughly from his firm grasp, the young diva yanked herself free from him and simply rose her hand higher, staring him down as if demanding him to attempt to try and stop her from making her decision. "Yes, that is true, Finn, but this is something I believe in." The boy's frown deepened, as did the furrow to his brow, and he grumpily turned, making a sound of disapproval as he looked at anything except her. "You must believe me," she whispered softly, trying to coax him into seeing her side, "but I truly believe that we should do this. Quinn's right." The male said nothing, chin jutting further as he leaned against his arm, making his unwillingness to speak to her right then even more viewable. If anything, he seemed even unhappier about her decision with _her _name involved.

Meanwhile, Blaine simply watched his boyfriend with a pained expression, as if he were a zebra about to be gutted rather than cuddled by the lion he seemed to think Kurt as. Kurt, still glancing at the nails on his one hand, rose the other calmly without a word, spying his boyfriend's look above them, knowing that he was wounding the swelled pride of his beloved. Honestly, a part of him couldn't find the capacity to care, and he simply returned to inspecting his nails rather than healing the wound he seemed to have given the other boy.

Still though, despite the changed opinions around them, Santana and Brittany, along with Mercedes, didn't move, caramel fingers holding tighter to the blond's hand as the Latina stared silently at the floor before them, the words still repeating in her ears. Even if they hadn't meant it, they were deciding as a group, as three of the core members, if perhaps they were better now than they would have been if the others hadn't won sectionals. True, they would have been out a director anyway since theirs seemed to have gotten scared off by the devil incarnate that had inhabited Quinn's body once upon a time. True, they would have stayed segregated, and they would have ended up missing their friends more than they honestly already did. But they would have been winners. They would have been appreciated like they should have always been. They would have been on the top of the heap because they were honestly better, and not because the other team had more acknowledged music.

Slowly, Santana loosened her fingers, only to find them trapped in her lover's grasp. Looking up, she gazed at the blond in question, only to find an adoring smile on her lips. She understood. Together, hands clasped as they would always be, the girls rose their hands, and Mercedes, who'd been sitting behind him, placed hers atop their's. This was a group decision, and they were all for proving that they were awesome without the means of music.

"It looks like we've come to a decision," Schuester said with a smile, although Blaine looked away dejected and Finn simply adding a humph of frustration. Tina, again, chose the time to playfully smack her boyfriends shoulder once again, and he mock jumped and added a false and soft yowl in response. This, of course, got a couple of the teens chuckling, amused by their antics.

Rubbing his hands together, their director couldn't help the grin upon his lips, finally standing from his stool before heading over to the white board behind him. Grabbing up a marker, he wrote under his already written 'Neglected Music' another word- _country_. This, of course, silenced the class, their faces once again contorting with uncertainty, realizing that perhaps their brief win wasn't going to help matters if that was what they were going to have to work on. "Now, this, to me, is perhaps one of the most overlooked kind of music in our country," he started, his lips curled into a smile despite his students' obvious dislike for it. "Singers from this genre are often the most honest with their emotions, putting their hearts on their guitar strings, or needing that drink with a bartender so someone will hear about your woes."

Puck seemed to liven up at the idea that seemed to have come into his mind at the words of their teacher. "Are you saying we should go get tanked with this assignment, because, if so, I'm all for it."

Shaking his head, Will felt a soft laugh on his lips. "No, no… It's just an example." Wistfully, the older man once again sat himself down at his seat, staring at the back wall with a thoughtful smile on his face. "Country songs… A lot of times they give words to feelings that you can't say otherwise." His eyes fell from the wall to the ground beneath his chair. "They can speak of love… of loss… of lust… of hurt and pain… of just about anything you can put your finger on."

Each of the young adults before him took a moment to themselves, listening to his words, taking them in as they thought about things that had been on their hearts and minds. Shyly, each person seemed to look at someone- Brittany and Santana's eyes met with small shared smiles; Artie stared longingly at the brown eyed girl he knew he'd never have; Rory smiled gratefully at the same girl his friend wanted; Sugar smiled to herself, looking at a phone number on her phone, tapping her heels together with excitement while chewing her bottom lip; Sam and Mercedes sharing a look that said more than anyone had ever heard; Tina and Mike kissing lovingly; Finn and Quinn glancing briefly at the brunette between them, who seemed to be staring all the more at the ring on her finger. Rachel chewed uncertainly on her bottom lip, never once raising her gaze to meet either who looked at her. Noah glanced from the corner of his eyes at the short haired blond, unsaid emotions written on his face as he curled in on himself in his chair.

Finally, after the silence that seemed to come, the curly haired older man clapped his hands, gaining once again the attention of his students with a broad smile crossing his lips. "Now… I admit that we probably don't have that much time to work on it, but I want everyone to come up with something for this assignment." Where hesitation once lived in the eyes of the kids before him, now lingered determination and understanding. "Now… let's get started on working out new material for Regionals!"

**gleegleegleegleegleeglee**

_Okay… this will be an angst rollercoaster, so strap in and let's go! Other than that, thank you for reading my fanfic. Hope you guys stick around for whats to come!_


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